


"Miracles out of Nowhere"

by fannishliss



Series: The Promise Verse post 5.22 AU [15]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Promise Verse, post 5.22 AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-14
Updated: 2013-10-14
Packaged: 2017-12-28 17:54:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/994822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fannishliss/pseuds/fannishliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A mystery guest appears and changes Sam's understanding of what's been going on.</p><p>Promise Verse: Sam pov, Castiel, mystery guest</p><p>Thanks to Kansas for the title!</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Miracles out of Nowhere"

Sam's life had changed so much, so quickly, it was a little hard to wrap his mind around it.

 

He had gone from running from Lucifer to inviting him in, and being possessed by the Archangel had unlocked powers he had never dreamed of. Like an Angel, he could easily teleport from place to place.  He could read auras, and sometimes even minds. He could hold demons immobile, banish them to Hell, or sear them into oblivion. And apparently, he could inspire them to devote themselves to doing good instead of evil.  He had even elevated the demon Crowley to the position of a god, and that, surprisingly, had gone really well.

 

Crowley had been a bit shocked to receive a gift of rum and cigars from Papa Legba, another reigning deity of the crossroads, but he quickly recovered his aplomb, selected a gift in kind with his own impeccable taste, and had two of Sam's most promising demons courier the response to the old orisha.   The demons reported that Legba had laughed heartily, graciously received Crowley's gift, and wished the demon the best of luck in his endeavors to become a god. Legba himself had had a steady following for centuries among those who never believed the crossroads to be run by demons, and to Crowley's relief, he did not see the demons as any threat to his own worship. To the contrary, he was relieved that Sam's cadre of demons had turned to doing good, as it made his own followers less wary of turning to the God of Choices with their questions and supplications.

 

Sam had been dismayed by Lucifer's murder of several old gods, and he was glad to open diplomatic relations with a powerful deity like Legba.  Sam himself had no designs on godhood, though he had some doubts about his mortality at this point.  Since Lucifer's possession, Sam was rarely hungry or thirsty, had little need for sleep,  and he had eradicated all traces of disease from his own body. He wondered what kind of thing could possibly kill him since he was spatially and temporally aware of any being approaching him.  Like a spider in a web, he sensed the vibrations of thoughts and intentions as humans, demons, Angels, or any other entities came near.

 

Until a man he didn't know simply opened his hotel room door and walked in.

 

Startled, Sam leapt to his feet, staring at the man in fear and horror.   Utterly blank, the man had no aura.

 

Despite the man's non-threatening stance, Sam's urgent cry of distress summoned Castiel in a heartbeat.

 

Sam and the Archangel stood facing a nondescript young man, freckled caucasian skin, short brown hair, average height and build.  If not for the frightening emptiness where his aura should have been, Sam wouldn't have given the man a second thought. He said nothing, simply staring at Sam with wide, assessing, and somehow innocent eyes.

 

"Who are you?"  Castiel said, advancing a step.

 

The man twiched a finger and Castiel was no longer in front of Sam, but was two steps behind him instead.

 

"Sam," Cas said in Sam's mind, "I can't move."

 

Sam broke into a sweat.  What were they up against, that could hold an Archangel motionless? Some wayward god, out to destroy them?  Or could it be Gabriel, back from the dead?

 

""Hey, who are you?  What do you want?"  Sam asked, desperately.

 

The man stared at them for another minute.  Sam felt the seconds tick by, and he struggled to keep his panic from overwhelming him.   The man's eyes reminded him of someone, but Sam couldn't think who it could be.

 

Finally the man spoke.  "What are you doing with all the demons?" His voice was mild and curious, empty of animosity.  If anything, he sounded cautious.  

 

Sam took a deep breath.  An easy question with an easy answer -- but not so easy to believe.

 

"We're trying to help them.  They used to be human, and we want to give them a chance to redeem themselves."

 

The man thought about this, then asked, "Are you trying to make an army?"

 

"No," Sam said.  His answers were honest, and straightforward, and he just hoped this entity could sense his sincerity.

 

"What does that mean -- redeem themselves,"  the man asked.

 

Sam felt himself calming slightly at the easy questions as the man continued not to threaten him.

 

"It means to make amends for the evil they've done, so that they can be less evil,"  Sam said.  He hoped that sounded convincing.

 

"How can they become less evil -- they're pure evil, aren't they?"  The man frowned.

 

"No -- they were human once; they’re still human souls with human potential.  What matters is the choices they make, right?"

 

"I guess,"  the man said uncertainly.  He shifted slightly from foot to foot.  He reminded Sam again of someone Sam couldn't quite remember.

 

"So we're trying to help them make better choices.  Demons have a lot of power.  If they can use if for good, it helps take away the pain and anger that makes them demonic.  In return, I let them stay on earth instead of destroying them or sending them back to Hell,"  Sam said.

 

"Why do you get to decide?"  the man asked.  Unlike Crowley, he didn't sound accusatory, merely confused.

 

Sam let out another breath.  This really was the crux of the matter.  He wasn't sure if the man would accept his answer, or even if he should.  "Well, I also have a lot of power, and I'm trying to do the most good with it that I can.  And I can see inside the demons, to know if they are bad or good."

 

The man's eyes widened slightly. "Are you like Santa Claus?"

 

Sam shifted.  Was this guy for real? "There's no such thing as Santa Claus."

 

"Yes, there is, he brought me presents every Christmas.  I saw him."

 

Sam thought to Castiel, is he serious?

 

Castiel thought back, I have no idea.

 

"Well,"  Sam went on, "I'm not Santa.  I just want to do some good, and the demons can be a powerful force for good if they have the right incentive."

 

"Are you training them to be super heroes?" the man asked.

 

"Why are you asking me all this?"  Sam asked, a little helplessly.

 

"I'm trying to understand," the man said.

 

"Who are you?" Sam asked again, but the man refused to answer.

 

After a minute, the man asked, "Why don't you just make them good?  Why make them work for it?  They make a lot of mistakes." 

 

Sam nodded gravely.   "They do make some mistakes.  As demons, their impulses are violent.  But they get better very quickly. If Castiel or I tried to make them good by force, it would hurt them terribly, and leave them wounded and weak for a long time."

 

"That's what he did to your brother, right?"

 

Sam started, and all the panic and wariness rushed back full force. "What do you know about my brother?"

 

"Why doesn't he let you go to him?" the man said, again ignoring the question.

 

Sam answered readily enough, "Cas isn't keeping me.  My brother needs time."

 

"Why?"  the man asked.

 

Sam hesitated, but he knew the answer.  "He was hurt.  He needs to heal." 

 

"Why can't he heal with you around?"

 

It had been very clear cut to Sam at the time, when Castiel first convinced Sam to allow Dean to remain ignorant of his return, to allow him to continue on in the life he was building with Lisa. Now, Sam's answer seemed weak.  "If I went to him, he'd want to Hunt again, and he's not ready for that."

 

"He's Hunting again already," the man said.

 

Sam shook his head, and turned to Castiel.  "No way,"  he said out loud, asking Cas to refute the man's assertion.

 

Castiel opened his mouth, and though the rest of him remained motionless, he said, "Dean has only gone on three Hunts -- and all three times he took Lisa with him."

 

"He took a civilian Hunting?"  Sam was incredulous.

 

"She's been in training.  She trains with her friend Annette.  She is a very safe partner for Dean," Castiel said.

 

"Why didn't you tell me?"  Sam asked, angry and hurt.

 

Castiel remained impassive.  "Dean is still getting better.  The Hunts have been easy and have gone well.  I would not let anything happen to him or Lisa,"  he said.

 

Sam stood there, trying to process all this, but the man interrupted him.

 

"I could make the demons good.  It wouldn't hurt them.  I could do your brother, too.  He's a good guy."  The man said "good guy" like he was playing cops and robbers.

 

"Please, don't harm Dean Winchester,"  Castiel pleaded. 

 

"I wouldn't harm him, Angel,"  the man said, his voice again more hostile.  "You're the one keeping his brother away from him." 

 

"It's for the best.  It's only for a time,"  Castiel said defensively.

 

"You're keeping me away from him?"  Sam asked Castiel angrily.

 

"You could go to him, but I don't think that's for the best.  You have important work here.  You know Dean wouldn't like you working with demons. He has to be ready before you tell him."

 

Castiel's reasoning sounded so plausible to Sam that again he found himself agreeing with the Archangel.  Dean was better off in his new life with Lisa.  He deserved a chance to be happy and safe for a while.

 

"You're doing it again," the man accused.  He sounded a little angry this time.

 

"Doing what?  I can't move,"  Castiel said.

 

"You're messing with Sam somehow.  Sam, can't you feel it?"  The man turned to Sam expectantly.

 

Sam looked into his mind.  All was well.  He was healthy and whole and doing the right thing.  "Nothing's wrong, except that I can't see your aura,"  Sam responded.

 

The man gave an angry toss of his head.  "He tried to kill me.  That's why you can't know who I am."

 

Sam peered hard at the man.  "You're blaming Cas, but what about you?  Did you do something to me?"

 

The man blushed and hung his head.  "Yes.  But I had to." 

 

Sam examined his thoughts again.  All was as it should be.  If the man was interfering with his memories and perceptions, then maybe Castiel was too?

 

"Cas, are you influencing me somehow?" 

 

To Sam's dismay, Castiel looked worried.  "I don't know.  Maybe.   Events seem to conform to my desires, now that I am so powerful.  It wasn't my intention to sway you." 

 

"Cas!"  Sam couldn't believe it.  Why hadn't Castiel warned him?

 

"But everything is going very well.  No one has been harmed,"  Castiel said.

 

"Except Dean," the man said.  "And the people your demons have killed," he added.

 

Sam couldn't answer.  He knew the demons had killed some people.  It was a kind of vigilante justice.  The demons hadn't killed anyone who wasn't truly guilty, but Sam had studied philosophy and knew all about casuistry.

 

The part about Dean worried him more.  Was Dean suffering because he thought Sam was still in Hell?  The moment the thought made itself clear in his head, he knew the answer:  yes, of course.  How could Dean survive, thinking that Sam was locked in a cage with the devil?  How had Castiel talked him into delaying, even for a minute?

 

"Cas, come on.  I don't know what kind of wool you've been pulling over my eyes, but we have to go to Dean right now." 

 

Castiel's eyes pleaded with Sam.  "If Dean had been suffering like you say, I would never have kept you away.  He's doing well.  He's healing.  Isn't that what we want for him?"

 

The man turned to Sam and pointed to Castiel.  "The Angel is messing with Dean.  I'm telling you."

 

"Are you?"  Sam  demanded.  "Tell me!"

 

Castiel closed his eyes.  "Sam, your brother was entrusted to me and I hurt him terribly.   I would never willingly allow him to suffer again.  I swear, my blessing on your brother doesn't constitute 'messing with him.'"

 

"It does too!" the strange man interjected.

 

"Wait a second, Cas. What do you mean, 'your blessing'?" 

 

"Just that.  I bless Dean in my heart with every thought. I bless Lisa and her house.  I've warded them both.  I watch their comings and goings.  I keep them safe and well."  Castiel's look of distress faded to a half-smile of pure, benevolent peace.  Sam felt a proud contentment that he and Cas were friends, working so well together.  Sam heaved a relaxing sigh.

 

"There!  Don't you feel that?  Sam, are you blind?  Just look at him!"  The man actually bounced a little as he pointed accusingly at the Angel.

 

Castiel's eyes widened and he began to stare in what Sam thought of as his bird of prey mode.  In the ether, Sam could see Castiel's wings trembling as he tried to mantle, but couldn't. "Your accusations are baseless and false.  Reveal yourself,"  Castiel commanded.

 

The man stared fearlessly back at Cas.  Sam's eyes began to water in sympathy.  "You can't tell me what to do.  I'm way more powerful than you are. Besides, Sam didn't say about the demons.  You want me to fix them for you?"

 

Sam pinched at the bridge of his nose.  This was all too confusing.  Theoretically, the demons would benefit by what this entity was offering. But to Sam, it felt false somehow.  He wondered if he were just being too Puritan about it all. Perhaps this was literally a saving grace. 

 

"It's not for me to deny them this chance, if you can really do what you say.  They should be allowed to choose for themselves.  Not every demon decides to join us, you know." 

 

The man wrinkled his brow.  "I know.  It seems like I should just kill them.  But that doesn't seem right either.  It's all so hard to understand."

 

Sam looked intently at the strange, blank, average-looking man.  He seemed so familiar--Sam guessed that he and Cas must have met him before.   "Why don't you just tell us who you are?  Then maybe we'll understand how you fit into all this."

 

The man frowned again.  "He tried to kill me.  I don't like him.  He messes with people and doesn't even realize it." 

 

Castiel deliberately blinked and took a calming breath.  Sam could see his vast ethereal form still trembling with the urge to fight or fly.  The semblance of a human vessel was Castiel's only outlet for movement or expression, and he seemed to fall back on his human-like ways. 

 

"If I have acted wrongly towards you, I apologize. As an Angel of the Lord,  I've done many things that I'm not particularly proud of."

 

"You thought I was an abomination,"  the man said, grudgingly.

 

"Join the club,"  Sam muttered.

 

"I'm sorry. Angels don't receive diversity training-- we find people righteous, or we smite them."  He quickly added, "I'm trying to change that now."

 

"You're changing a lot of things,"  the man agreed, but not as though he believed Castiel was doing a particularly good job.

 

Castiel frowned, but made no reply.   An uncomfortable silence fell.   At last Castiel spoke.  "We seem to be at an impasse.  What do you want with us?"

 

The man shifted again, uneasily.  "I've been hiding from everyone for a while now, especially the demons, but they don't seem to be doing all that much, just hiding inside people. I pulled one out, but then I didn't know what to do with it.  Then I noticed the ones working for you and that Crowley demon, they're not as mad and scared as the others.  So I came to find out why." 

 

Sam thought it over.  "To me, it seems like helping the demons learn the difference between right and wrong is important.  The more they learn, the closer they get to being human again."

 

"How did Dean ever become a demon, anyway?"  the man asked.

 

Sam felt a stab of pain run through him.  It seemed like it would never go away. "He traded his soul for my life, and then the master torturer of Hell broke him on the rack, and trained him to be a torturer.  Castiel was sent to pull him out of Hell because he was the destined vessel of the archangel that was supposed to kill Lucifer."

 

The man rolled his eyes.  "These Angels are just as bad as the demons when it comes to this destiny thing.  They thought I was ..." the man broke off suddenly.

 

Castiel's eyes widened.  "I know who you are."

 

The man said quickly, "No, you don't!"

 

Castiel flinched, his eyes squeezed shut as if in a momentary pain.  Sam felt his disorientation and frustration as he suddenly forgot what he'd just figured out.

 

Time for diplomacy, Sam thought.  He put on his convincing face and made himself as non-threatening as he could.

 

"Please, just tell us who you are.  We can all work together.  If the demons prefer it your way, we have no problem with that."

 

The man thought it over, and finally said, "Okay.  It's not like you can do anything to me anyway."

 

Castiel fell forward slightly as the implacable force holding him suddenly let go. Sam blinked and shied back as the brilliance of the aura in front of him nearly overwhelmed him. It was as bright as the unveiled archangelic glory of  Lucifer and Michael but very different from the static intensity of the caged archangels. While Lucifer shone a dazzling golden-white and Michael was tinged electric blue with fury, this entity's aura constantly shifted from color to color, mercurial and alive.

 

"The cambion child -- the antichrist!"  Castiel exclaimed in Sam's head.

 

"Jesse?"  Sam said.  All the strange questions suddenly made sense, as did his forgettable adult disguise. The knowledge of their original meeting came flooding back into his head, along with the concerns they’d had about finding Jesse when Sam had first returned, which Jesse had evaporated from their memories with a wish.

 

"Yeah..."  Jesse said.  "Don't try anything.  I've totally been watching you for days.  You couldn't possibly find me if I hide."

 

"Don't hide, please.  We don't want to harm you,"  Sam tried to reassure him.   "You don't have to run.  We can be friends."

 

"You and Dean said you wanted me to fight in a war.  I'm not going to do that."  Jesse's tone was firm.

 

"That's okay.  There's no war.  We figured out how to stop it." 

 

Jesse stared at Castiel with suspicion.  "Heaven hates me. You thought I would destroy you,"  he said.

 

"You have no cause to fear me or Heaven.  We have nothing against you.  We are simply trying to find a reason to exist without God telling us what to do."

 

"Dummie!" the boy said. 

 

Sam's mouth fell open.  Castiel's eyes got fierce again.

 

"God tells you what to do all the time.  You just forget." He stomped with impatience.  "Take care of people.   Help them take care of each other.  How many different ways is God supposed to tell you?"

 

Castiel's eyes grew gentle, and he gave one of his rare, soft smiles.  "You and I agree completely.  My brothers and sisters have forgotten all this, and I'm trying to remind them."

 

Sam added, "And that's what we're trying to do with the demons." 

 

"Okay,"  Jesse said.  "I think it's a good try. But I still think I could just fix them.  I guess next time, I could just ask them.  I don't know why I didn't think of that."

 

Jesse was a very solemn boy, but Sam was impressed at how well someone so young was coping with so much power, all on his own.

 

"Jesse, you don't have to stay hiding.  Don't you want company?"  Sam said.  He remembered the isolation of his own nomadic childhood and how hard it had been to always feel so alone -- and he'd had Dean to rely on, his brother's love and loyalty unshakeable, even when they got on one another's nerves.

 

"I'm afraid.  What if, what if I'm not the only one.  Cambion."  Jesse's wide eyes were sad, and too old for his years.

 

Castiel spoke gently. "All the more reason for you to rely on us as friends."

 

"But if there's another one, he might wipe you out or whatever.  I turned you into a doll,"  Jesse said.

 

"Let's just hope there isn't,"  Sam said.  "And if there is, we cross that bridge when we come to it.  We haven't heard about any strange anomalies so far, so that's a good sign." 

 

"Okay.  So are you going to go tell Dean?"    Jesse asked.

 

Castiel's mouth hardened, but Sam answered first.  "Look, Cas, I know you've had the best of intentions, but don't you think it's wrong to interfere in Dean's life this way?"

 

"I haven't interfered--" 

 

"Blessed, then, whatever."

 

Castiel huffed in annoyance.  "It's a very important distinction.  I know that I'm very powerful as an archangel.  I've been on guard against interfering in Dean's life since I left him shortly after your fall.  Do you know how hard that was?  to step away from him while he was in so much pain?"

 

Sam knew. "Why didn't you stay then?"

 

"I'm doing important work in Heaven, you know!"  Castiel retorted.  "But the main reason was, that Dean needed to recover without my interference. He didn't need someone there, constantly reminding him of your imprisonment.  He hated me -- hated me -- that I couldn't save you."  Castiel's voice was torn with emotion.  Anna would never have said that angels were blocks of marble if she could have seen Castiel at that moment.

 

"But Jesse says--"  Sam started.

 

"Jesse sees events from his own perspective. The universe bends to his thoughts. Of course he feels that my influence arises from similar intentions. But it doesn't work that way." Castiel shook his head, trying to explain the ineffable.  "Miracles are easy. As an archangel, I can warp reality with a snap of my fingers. But I'm not Gabriel-- I find no amusement in it. Besides, Dean didn't need a miracle - the one thing he prayed for with every beat of his heart I couldn't give him.  I had to leave him, but I haven't once looked away from him.   You made him make a promise, and he tried his best to keep it, and I have blessed his attempts. As I have your own, as well.  If that is wrong, then I admit my culpability."

 

"Does he,"  Sam asked, hesitant, "does he think I'm still in Hell?"  Sam couldn't bear the thought of Dean suffering the way he had those horrible four months -- and it had been almost a year since they'd put Lucifer back in the cage.

 

Castiel lowered his eyes.  "I haven't told Dean that you escaped....  except in dreams. His nightmares of Hell were horrible, even before.  When my powers were failing me, there was little I could do.  But I have some influence now over the ways his subconscious dredges up his inner conflicts and torments. My help enables him to control the outcome of his dreams, to keep them from overwhelming him.  When you escaped, I let him know. So, even though he doesn't consciously remember it, in his heart of hearts he knows you are safe." 

 

Sam was too full of emotion to be able to sift through it all.  He'd been working with Castiel for months, squaring away the deal on Bobby's soul with Crowley, helping the demons to follow a new path.  All that time, while he'd missed Dean, he'd been diverted by his mission -- apparently only because Castiel believed it was the right thing to do.  Now that Jesse had pointed it out, Sam's longing for Dean grew painfully intense. 

 

"Look, Cas.  If he's well enough to Hunt, then he's well enough for me to go to him.  I've stayed away from him long enough -- too long already."

 

Castiel fixed Sam with his most piercing gaze.  "Sam, you were the one who made him promise to build a new life in the first place.  If you hadn't, he'd already have taken his reward in Heaven."

 

Cold horror flowed through Sam at the thought.  "You wouldn't let him.... you wouldn't...."

 

"If he had made that choice, I would not have felt it right to 'interfere,'"  Cas said unblinkingly. He relaxed a little. "But I'm just trying to get you to realize --- we both have Dean's best interests at heart. If you had to make him promise to stay alive,  then I had to bless that life -- to prosper his decisions, to make every outcome the best it could be."

 

Sam tried to think about it.  He tried to imagine a human life where every happenstance fell out according to the benevolent wishes of an archangel. He and Dean had never been lucky before, but Sam guessed there was no luck better than that.

 

"Every morning, Dean opens his eyes, gets up, and goes about his day. He doesn't remember that I was there with him all night, pouring light into the darkest places in his mind.  He has the strength in him to heal, to go on.   I just help him find that strength."

 

Sam didn't know what to say.

 

Jesse spoke.  "He still needs to know you're okay."

 

Sam just looked at Castiel. 

 

"Go to him, then, if you must.  But Sam, please remember.  Dean has made a place for himself, a home. It could be home for you too, if you don't tear him away."

 

Sam tried to imagine it:  Dean with a real family, a woman who loved him, a son.  Where would Sam fit into that equation?

 

"You will always have the biggest part of Dean's heart.  But he has so much love in him-- so much to share ---."  Castiel broke off.

 

Gazing at Cas and Jesse, Sam nodded, his heart in his throat.  "I have to go to him.  I have to." 

 

With a blink and a roll of thunder, Sam appeared under the streetlight across from Lisa's house.  Inside, it was suppertime.

 


End file.
